DA Revelations Episode 11: After
by AngelExposed
Summary: Remy wakes up feeling the aftermath of Ecstasy and his mental state begins to become more and more apparent to everyone - especially to Jessie. R
1. Chapter 1 Afterglow

DA Revelations

Episode 11 – After

Chapter 1 – Afterlow

Remy LeBeau wasn't sure when he moved into the bed, he couldn't remember even getting dressed into the same jogging pants and sweatshirt he'd wore the night before, but when he woke up at three pm on the first of January 2011, he was fully dressed, socks included, and wearing a pair of woollen gloves.

At first, he couldn't even remember what date it was until he glanced to the clock on the bedside cabinet and saw the date on the bottom of the digital display of his alarm clock. Memories of the New Years Party were just barely there and he, for one moment, wondered if perhaps he'd gotten drunk and passed out – it'd certainly explain why his head was throbbing as if he'd been hit with a frying pan.

He rolled over to get comfortable to find Rogue asleep in the bed beside him, her eyes closed lightly, her bare shoulder exposed to the dim light seeping in through the blinds. He sat up, groaning from the aches of lying too long in an uncomfortable position. It took him several moments to examine the room through tired squinting eyes. And as he glanced around the room he saw the pieces of Rogue's costume strewn about the room as if they'd been tossed in some careless manner. Some of the blankets were on the floor and there was a very vague, just very nearly undetectable scent of musk hanging in the room.

For a few moments, he cradled his pounding head and tried to piece together everything else. Some things he remembered, and some he didn't. He could only vaguely remember going to the supermarket...and what he ordered for breakfast. He could remember making a fool of himself at the New Year's party. But pieces were missing in between.

A sudden sickness hit him and he leapt out of bed; he fell to the floor, his incredible sense of balance had been somehow compromised and he fell, slamming his head into the dresser hard enough that he was almost positive he saw stars and flashes when he opened his eyes.

"Remy, what the hell..."

Rogue had awoken and was sitting up in bed with the quilt up to her chin, watching him curiously.

"I...don't feel so..." he didn't have enough time to finish the sentence; the sickness hit him far too quickly for him to do anything other than fold over and throw up on the carpet with a horrible retching cry that shook his body.

"Oh, fuck," Rogue jumped out of the bed and rushing over, she placed her hands gently on his back, "you're all pasty."

Very little came up in the second wretch, and he sat on the floor, back against the dresser, head spinning like the world's worst hangover.

Except...he couldn't remember having been drunk – and if he'd been drunk surely he'd be throwing up a whole lot more than what he just had.

Rogue awkwardly stepped across the carpet in bare feet, trying to avoid the mess, she returned from the bathroom a moment later with a washcloth soaked in cold water, and she brought it over to him, kneeling beside him.

This was...odd, he thought, as he stared at her completely nude body in a sense of bewilderment; he might have even enjoyed the sight if he weren't so perplexed. Still, he accepted her help despite his confusion; the cold compress felt wonderful on his pounding forehead. While he sat holding it to his head and sitting with his eyes closed, he heard Rogue going about scrubbing up his vomit.

"I don't get it, you were so...fine earlier..." Rogue remarked as she rubbed against the carpet with a wet towel.

"Maybe a bug," he mumbled, "I feel...so weird...disorientated," he admitted.

"What do you mean disorientated. Like you regret earlier?"

He opened his eyes to stare at her, she wasn't looking at him, she was focusing on the task at hand, her expression determined. He'd done something earlier...what was it he'd done? He glanced around the room for evidence. "Course I don't..." he answered quickly, and tried to sound very sure of the answer as if he hadn't needed to put the thought into it. The suspicious white stain on the carpet a few feet away confirmed that he and she had definitely done some romping around earlier.

"I know what this is," Rogue said quietly, sounding serious.

"Yeah, well, you don't need a CSI team to tell you what that stain is," he rolled his eyes; he thought she'd meant the stain.

"What?" she raised her eyes to him, then caught the direction he was looking in, "I didn't even see that..." she moved over to it and began to rub the wet towel into it. "I guess I wasn't paying much attention to you when...you know."

"I know," he nodded, although unfortunately he didn't know at all.

She was quiet for a time, until she'd finished cleaning the carpet; there were three wet patches on the carpet; evidence of a good time and then of the sickness after. She reached for his shirt from the new year's party and pulled it on, buttoning it over herself. They sat in silence.

"You always said that sex changes things..." Rogue said after a moment, "did it?"

"Yes and no," he said. How could he answer this properly without knowing exactly what had happened? "Nothing is different...apart from that we did it..."

_Sex...sex...I can't have _had _sex with her...because she can't control her powers and I can't control mine yet. So how did we...?_

"Well, we didn't technically. It was just...I don't know...touching. But it was so..."

He suddenly remembered the touching; seeing the little sparks dancing from his fingers and seeping into her skin. "Electric," he finished.

"Literally," she laughed nervously. "Never felt anything so..."

"Incredible," he finished. He took the wet washcloth from his forehead and pushed his damp hair back.

"I didn't even touch you..." she gestured to the damp patch on the carpet where the evidence of his pleasure had been.

His mind drifted to the alleyway, to putting the dealer's drugs down the drain...and then being alone in the bathroom having taken the pill before his shower. _What was I thinking?!_ He demanded of himself, he cradled his head.

"You sure you don't regret it?" she asked quietly.

"Of course I don't," he had to say it for the second time. Of course, he did; he regretted that the actions had been...influenced by a pill rather than his own desires. It felt sleazy and even more wrong that to her, it must have meant so much more.

She smiled, "okay. 'Cause...I don't regret it, don't even regret that it hurt like _hell..._" she chewed her lip, then stopped after feeling the pain of the bite that she'd apparently forgotten all about. "I...I've never felt closer to you than I did right then..." she admitted somewhat coyly, she lowered her head but kept his eyes on him. "Like I connected with you..."

"I'm probably just suffering from that really foul breakfast earlier," he lied, he wiped his face off with the cloth and then tossed it onto the floor.

"You haven't been eating enough, it's no wonder you're getting ill..." she stood up after picking up the towel and the washcloth. "I'll have these cleaned," she said to him, "I'm gonna go get properly dressed and then I'll come see if you're feeling any better."

"Okay," he nodded.

When she left the room wearing nothing but his shirt which luckily hung just below her hips, he pulled himself up unsteadily, feeling very off balance and shaky. He made his way to the bathroom to pick up his jeans from earlier – beneath them was the baggie of pills, still in tact. Luckily, she hadn't picked up his dirty laundry to have that washed, or she'd have known right then what a terrible mistake he'd made.

_I should get rid of these..._ he thought, he moved over to the toilet and opened the bag; something nagged at him that it'd be a mistake to dispose of them just yet. _But she's happy...I gave her exactly what she needed and it was because of these..._

He stared at the bag in his hands.

_No...this is a bad slippery slope – and I've been down it before. And that was _fine_ when I had absolutely _nothing_ to lose..._

And there was so much to lose now. Kitty, Jessie, and Rogue, all who would be dismayed and disgusted with this use of illegal substance.

But yet...he had to wonder...would he lose Rogue if he couldn't connect with her like that again? He couldn't rely on his deflated sex drive to improve on it's own, and he couldn't just pretend to enjoy that kind of intimacy if his heart truly wasn't in it. Now that the fog in his mind was clearing, he remembered almost feeling as if his heart _had _been in it.

_I can't make this decision now...I need more time to think, _he thought.

Sighing in defeat, he took the bag of pills to his bedroom, where he used some of the scotch tape from christmas present wrapping to tape the bag to the underside of the drawer in his bedside cabinet.


	2. Chapter 2 Joy

Chapter Two - Joy

Rogue tossed the towel, and the washcloth into one of the machines in the laundry room; she put in plenty of detergent before she chose a high temperature wash. She was still reeling from that morning; things had turned out so...unexpectedly, and it had all caught her so off guard. One minute, Remy had been uninterested and aloof and then suddenly, so forceful and imaginative.

It might not have the all the way romantic intimacy she'd always dreamed of, but it was special, and memorable...and had made her feel for the first time in her life like a real woman.

_Remy was right,_ she thought. _This new power of his _is _the way through to us getting to be together...if we work at this more...maybe we'll be able to go all the way soon...if we just keep at it. _The reality of their connection that morning left her with such hope; she felt elated and happier than she was sure she had ever been in her life.

_Everything is falling in to place,_ she thought delightedly.

She hummed to herself as she folded away some of the clothes that were fresh out of the laundry room dryer.

"Oh there you are, I was looking for you earlier..."

Rogue turned to see Kitty entering the laundry room, a basket full of clothes in her arms. "You were?"

"Yeah, like you and Remy just...totally disappeared when you got back from the store; we made lunch, but we couldn't find you guys...then someone ate it..." Kitty put the basket ontop of the nearby empty dryer.

"I was in Remy's room," Rogue stated, she tried to suppress a smile, cheeks flushing with not with embarrassment, but with joy.

Kitty caught the expression though, and raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow, "you were?"

"Yeah_..."_

At first, Kitty didn't understand that implication, "huh?"

Rogue grinned and leaned against the wall, she hugged herself and sighed happily; she could still feel those tingles beneath her skin, could still strongly recollect the mixed feeling of the spark and his hot fingertips

"Wait...did you guys..."

"We did things so naughty...so, _so_ naughty."

Kitty gave a strange laugh; it was the look of disbelief that somewhat shook Rogue slightly. Why did she look so...shocked?

"What is it?"

"Nothing..." Kitty shook her head, "just...the day I thought you guys got up to naughty stuff would be the day every wall in the place rattled with the aftershock..." she said, her voice sounded somewhat unsure.

Rogue laughed softly, "it couldn't have been _far_ from it."

"So...like..." Kitty closed the laundry room door and lowered her voice, "how did you...I mean not that I want specifics but...how...was it possible?"

"His powers are stoppin' me from absorbin' his..."

"But that means you getting shocked?" Kitty asked.

Thinking about this for a moment, Rogue finally admitted, "well...it was...kind of worth the agony. My invulnerability means I have a good tolerance for pain."

"So...did you...I mean...are we talking fully or...?" Kitty tried to be vague; she'd never liked being particularly crude about the subject of sex, although she knew all the right terms and some very clever phrases.

"Not fully," Rogue answered, "it was...like touch and stop...and after a while...the sparks felt like pulses...still sore but...kinda weirdly nice..."

"Ah," said Kitty.

"Like the feeling you get from those T.E.N.S machines..." Rogue simplified, "except...in...better places...and more painful...obviously."

"Yeah," Kitty nodded, "so...how long did it take before he gave in?" she asked.

"What'd you mean?" Rogue queried.

Kitty began to load the other machine with the clothes from the basket, "I mean...Remy's bipolar...and sometimes it affects the sex drive..." she reminded. "Did it take a lot of persuasion to get him to get physical."

"No..." Rogue shook her head, "it was his idea..." she couldn't even imagine why Kitty should assume that it had been a case of anyone giving in.

Kitty tilted her head to look at Rogue; her expression was readable.

_She doesn't believe me,_ Rogue thought. "Why do you look like that?"

Shaking her head, Kitty continued loading the machine. "Sorry, I didn't know I was looking like anything," she admitted. "I guess I just misconstrued Remy's state of mind or something..."

"What do you _mean?_" Rogue asked.

"I don't know what I mean," Kitty finished loading the machine, she poured the detergent in and closed the hatch. "I guess I'm not as good at reading people as I thought I was..." she seemed concerned, genuinely concerned, and...confused.

Rogue placed a hand on her friend's shoulder gently, "probably just your being so tired with the baby and all..."

"That could be it," Kitty nodded. As Rogue left the room she could have sworn she heard Kitty mumble, "or it might be something else."


	3. Chapter 3 How Can I?

Chapter Three – How Can I?

When Remy felt well enough to leave his bedroom, he found Jessie playing in foyer with her Barbie Dolls. She was sitting on the marble tiles, dolls and accessories strewn around her, a tiny brush in her hand as she brushed Barbie's shiny Platinum hair to sleek perfection.

The girl glanced up as Remy came down the stairwell, slow and still slightly off balance, her large grey-blue eyes widened just a little.

"You don't look so good," she said.

"I'm tired," he said, he sat on the bottom step to rest; he felt so incredibly drained.

Jessie ditched the doll on the floor with that same carelessness that only a child could have, and she got up and walked over to him, her long tawny hair glistening in the lights above. "You're a funny colour..." she put her small hand on his face, "hot and sticky too."

"Yeah. I barfed earlier too."

"Gross."

"Yeah, it pretty much was."

Jessie curled his hair around her fingers thoughtfully and she inclined her head to study him; "you want me to take care of you?" she asked.

He nearly laughed, the concept of her taking care of him was almost hilarious; she was so small and could barely even tie her shoes. "How would you do that?" he asked, he let his arms rest on his knees.

"Bring you a glass of milk and cookies and ice cream," she replied, quite matter of factly. "Lots and _lots_ of ice cream."

"Well, t'be honest," he made a face, "I think I'm a little too old to be fixed up by ice cream, mignon. I think it only works on cute little girls, and not big ugly old men like me."

"You're not ugly," Jessie giggled.

"I am today," he decided; he'd caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror of his room and he looked like death. He couldn't ever remember ecstasy having such a come-down before, but then it had been quite a while.

Jessie continued to lay with his hair, "I saw Rogue come out of your room earlier wearing your shirt..." she said, almost as if she were sharing a secret.

He stopped her, "what?"

"She did. I saw her."

"Well...I guess she was playing steal-the-shirt..." Remy tried to make up an excuse, and it wasn't a very imaginative one at that.

"Why would she want to steal a boy's shirt?" Jessie made a face.

"To play dress up, maybe," Remy replied. _Great, not only am I lying to my daughter, but I'm also suggesting that Rogue is a cross-dresser. Terrific._

"She's _always_ in your room," said Jessie.

"She likes to come and talk to me."

Jessie paused to consider this, then asked, "What do you talk about?"

"We talk about everything."

"Me?" she asked, looking down to the floor to examine her sneakers.

He paused, "sometimes," he confessed.

"What'd you say?"

"That...you have hair like a princess, but your shoes are smelly," he tickled her side quickly and she giggled and flinched out of his reach, a gap-toothed grin appearing.

"You and Rogue should just share a room; it'd save so much time," Jessie finally decided, quite seriously in a very adult way.

He raised an eyebrow at his daughter; it was an interesting point, but he wasn't sure how either he or Rogue would cope with staying in the one room together permanently. "Well...you see, uhm...the Professor has this rule, that boys and girls _can't_ share rooms..."

"Yes, I know...but Mr. Summers and Miss. Grey _do."_

"Well...uhm..." it was too hard to try and explain to the girl all the complex things about grown-up relationships. "You see, they're going to get married soon, so they're sharing a room to see if they...really like to share a bed..." the lies were becoming harder to come up with.

"Oh," said Jessie, she was happy enough with this explanation.

His head was still pounding like the world's worst hangover; he put his hands to his head and tried to massage away the pain.

"Your head hurts?" Jessie asked.

"Just a little headache," he answered.

Jessie leaned over and gently bumped her lips against his forehead, an awkward and clumsy kiss that startled him.

_She tried to kiss my pain away_, he thought, immensely touched by the gesture.

"Thank you," he said softly to her, "I feel lots better now."

Jessie seemed quite delighted with this, and she skipped back to her Barbie dolls and began to play again.

Remy hauled himself up; as he passed by Jessie, he ruffled her hair then made his way to the hidden elevator and went down to the sub-basement where Hank was sure to be either in his lab or the hospital wing.

He found Hank in the hallway trying to fix a broken light on the ceiling; he found it funny that he'd been with the X-Men for so many years and never once had it dawned on him who had to maintain all the light fittings in the sub-basements.

"This light keeps fusing," said Hank irritably, "I think there's a short somewhere in here," he added as Remy approached.

"I need some of those painkillers," Remy said tiredly.

"Your wound sore?"

"Always," Remy touched his chest, he felt the sting of the edges of the wound. "Also have a pretty massive headache that's making it real hard to think."

"Best thing for a headache is lying down in a dark room."

"I tried that, it didn't work," Remy said.

Hank left the light and made the way to the hospital wing, "while you're down here I should change that dressing," he said, gesturing to the chair by his desk.

Remy sat down while yanking off his sweatshirt, and Hank retrieved a box of dressings and bandages from the cupboard before coming over. "I showered with the dressing on; it's kinda still damp a little."

"Has it been hurting any more than usual?" Hank asked.

"About the same; doesn't really feel like it's healing," Remy winced as Hank gently peeled the tape from the wound, and removed the dressing. The wound had been weeping and the soft gauze had stuck to it, making it even more painful to remove than he'd thought it would be.

"Infection," said Hank, "need to clean this up first and it's going to sting."

"Great," Remy said, suddenly angry, "another wash in that stupid acid you claim is a gentle disinfectant."

"It is gentle. It's the extent of your wound that is why it hurts so much. So many nerve endings are exposed...it's no wonder you feel so much pain," Hank pulled on his surgical gloves and retrieved his sterilised tweezers; he dipped a large swab of cotton in disinfectant and gently dabbed around the wound.

"Oh fuck..." Remy gripped the arms of the chair.

"The _sooner_ you get the regeneration therapy, the sooner you won't feel any pain," Hank reminded.

"How can I?" Remy uttered, "leave Rogue...my daughter? Just because I have a stupid hole in my chest?"

"Yes," Hank said, "that's the perfect reason to go have the procedure done. "This is _not_ healing enough and it's incredibly difficult to keep it from getting infected."

"Why can't they come _here,_ and do it?" Remy sucked in a sharp breath at the burning in his wound.

"Because the chamber in which they will place you is a sensitive piece of equipment that would be rendered utterly useless if damaged during transport," Hank explained. "Rogue can still go with you he reminded."

"Jessie can't," Remy said through gritted teeth.

"She's perfectly safe here."

"I can't leave her...not now," Remy closed his eyes tightly, the hot feeling of the disinfectant on the wound made him shake. The bulb on the desklamp popped loudly, and the air crackled with an almost wicked warning that his powers were surfacing.

Hank stopped immediately, the fur on his arms was standing up on end as each hair reacted to the charge coming from Remy. "Deep breaths, my friend, deep breaths and try to relax yourself."

"I..." he drew his breath through his teeth, "I'm sorry...just hurts so goddamn much."

"I know. I know. But it has to be done."

"Remind me to never get hit with a laser again," he gasped sharply as Hank began to clean the wound again.

"You're lucky to be alive."

"So you tell me," Remy grumbled, "Alive is pretty painful lately."

"Yes, I suppose it is. But when you're ready for it to not be, the treatment will make you good – if not _better –_ than new."


	4. Chapter 4 Some Day You'll Understand

Chapter Four – Some Day You'll Understand

"I can't believe you got that wound infected _again_," Rogue commented after dinner time that night when she and Remy were alone together on the porch; she was sipping hot coffee from a mug while he stood smoking; his mind seemed to be elsewhere.

"I didn't get it infected; nothing I _did_ got it infected. It just got infected all on it's own. A gaping hole in the chest is prone to it, according to Hank," he exhaled a long stream of smoke into the cold evening air.

She stood beside him, "you need to get the regeneration treatment..." she said thoughtfully. She couldn't understand _why_ he was putting it off. He'd mentioned wanting to go, and taking her and possibly Jessie with him, but now he seemed less enthused on the idea of having to leave at all and she didn't know why.

"I know," he took a long drag from the cigarette.

Rogue had never been fond of the smell of his cigarettes, but right now she was willing to let him have this one vice. He hadn't touched a drink...she couldn't expect him to give up smoking at the same time.

"I thought we were all gonna take a trip to Muir Island," Rogue stated, she sipped her coffee and stared out at the snowy grounds.

"We are...just not immediately," he answered. "I just have some stuff to get out of the way first...then we'll go," he promised.

He silently smoked the cigarette down to a butt and he flicked it into the snow, he seemed so different now, in comparison with how he'd been that morning in the bedroom; so confident and relaxed and playful. Now he was dark, she could see it his eyes, in the slightly tense way he stood.

"Are you...okay?" she asked tenderly, she put her hand on his back, "You're so...quiet."

"Just tired," he responded. She could hear the lie in his tone, but she let it drop.

_ He can't help it, he has these dark turns and he might always have them. All I can do is try to be there with him while works through it,_ she thought sadly, she placed her mug down on the porch rail, then she moved behind him to wrap her arms around him and rest her cheek against his back, his arms folded around himself to hold onto her arms.

"Sorry, I'm not such good company sometimes," he confessed.

"You're sucky company, but you're warm and you smell good," she responded, trying to make light of it. "So I can live with it."

He unwrapped her arms from him and turned to face her, "you don't have to...you know."

"Huh?" she asked, looking at him curiously.

"What I mean is...if I make you unhappy..."

Rogue frowned a little, "don't be stupid."

"I don't want to spend my life feeling like I'm...I'm _ruining_ yours."

"You _are _my life."

"Sometimes I wonder how much better you'd have been off without me," he admitted after a moment, his eyes dull and sad as they gazed away from her to look into space. "You were...so well adjusted before I was brought back here...everyone said how happy you were. Before I was here, you had _no _problems..."

"Hey, c'mon now," she put her hands upon his face, and brushed the fabric of her suede gloves against his cold cheeks. "I might have had _no _problems, but I also had no _you. _I filled my time training students and pretending like life was great...now I don't have to pretend."

His gaze met hers...how could someone who'd seemed so sure of everything only eight hours ago suddenly be so _unsure,_ she wondered. It was almost like he was a different person, and that frightened her.

"Sorry, I'm not myself today..." he broke away from her.

"I kind of noticed," she confessed, she put her hands in the pockets of her jeans. "But it's not your fault. It's your depression – you can't help it."

"I can – and will...with the therapy," he said, it sounded like a strong and determined promise. "Then, once I've got the demons off my back...we can think about the future..."

"There's no rush on the future," she stepped closer and brushed his hair from his face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Jessie's face at the long window on the left side of the door. The girl was watching them closely.

_Why is she always hanging around?_ Rogue wondered. It was strangely needy, as if the girl couldn't live with being more than ten feet away from Remy at any one time. "We have an audience," Rogue commented.

Remy's eyes flitted to the window, and he smiled a little, a soft warm smile that seemed to light up his face just that little.

"She's always around..." Rogue admitted quietly, "it's kind of worrying."

"How so?" he glanced back at her; now it was his turn to look concerned.

"With your powers being slightly unstable...and me being so strong, and her being...so tiny and frail...it stresses me out thinking what could go _wrong._"

"You're used to being around other students; what makes her any difference?"

"She's practically a baby, Remy. She's fragile."

"She needs me," Remy said quite suddenly, "she needs _us_," he took both her hands and squeezed them. "You thought it would be good for me and her to spend time together – are you going back on that now?"

"No...I just...I didn't think she would become _so_ attached to you..." Rogue moved to the rail and sat upon it, "sometimes I think she wishes you were her father."

His face paled as she said this, and she wondered if the concept of fatherhood still scared him even though it was impossible now.

"If she gets any more attached...she might not be able to distinguish that you're _not,_" Rogue added.

"I don't _mind_ if she doesn't. You told me you didn't mind when we talked about this stuff before I started spending time with her more and more," he reminded.

"I don't mind," Rogue said, "I'm _glad_ you and her are bonding..."

He smirked just a little, "Chere, are you _jealous_ of a seven year old?"

"Of course not," Rogue rolled her eyes at him. It wasn't jealousy...it was concern.

_He's becoming just as _obsessed_ at spending time with her as she is with him,_ Rogue thought as she looked back to the window, Jessie's face had disappeared from the window. _That can't be natural. Maybe he really _is_ trying to replace Gabrielle by spending all this time with Jessie..._

He turned towards the door, and made his way to it, he stopped after opening it, and stood there halfway between outside and in. "Some day...you'll understand," he remarked softly before going inside and closing the door behind him.

"Sure," she said aloud to him although he was well out of earshot, "because I understand you _so_ well already."


	5. Chapter 5 Some People

Chapter Five – Some People

"Dinner was gross," said Jessie to Remy; she was sitting on her bedroom floor, her toys scattered around her like a captive audience. She'd been saying a lot of awkward random things for the past twenty minutes but he'd barely heard any of them, being lost in his own thoughts.

Remy was sitting folded legged on the small space of floor near her bed and the wall. His talk with Rogue had left him raw. He'd expressed a little too much more than he'd meant to and now he was regretting his words. _If she didn't think I was paranoid before, she probably does now,_ he half-heartedly mused to himself as he picked up one of Jessie's stuffed toys and looked down at it absently.

"Mr. LeBeau."

He snapped himself out of his dark thoughts and glanced to his daughter; it still jarred him when she called him that. He wished she'd at least fall into the habit of referring to him as Gambit; it'd feel less...creepy.

"Stop calling me that," he made a face, "it makes me feel...old."

"But you're _not_ old," Jessie said, "Not old like the Professor," she added thoughtfully.

"Old enough," he rolled the rounded stuffed toy in his hands, staring down at it wondering what the hell it was supposed to be.

"Are not."

"Am too," he said softly, somewhat sadly.

"Are not."

"I'm old enough to be your father," he said; it was without thinking and it left him immediately wishing he'd _never_ said it. He was almost sure she heard the vulnerability in his voice. He tried to fix the mistake of his admission, "so...yeah, I'm pretty old."

Jessie stared at him momentarily, with those large eyes of hers, it almost seemed like she was trying to take him in – trying to examine every inch of his face and intently read every expression.

"Maybe..." he put the toy down as he said it and sighed, "Maybe I'm too old to be hanging out with you..."

She gaped at him; as if the thought had never even occurred to her was bad enough but the words seemed to have added insult to injury. Her mouth fell into the shape of a little 'o'. "What do you _mean_ too old! You're not too old! That's silly!"

"Some people think it's not right that I should spend so much time with you..." he admitted_._

"You mean _Rogue,_" said Jessie perceptively, and she frowned a little.

"No," he lied, although Rogue was one of them.

"Rogue doesn't like me much," Jessie remarked quite maturely; her expression soured and it was an expression that did not suit her sweet face.

"She loves you. She's just worried. A lot of people _are _worried. Jessie, you know about _why _adults and children aren't really like friends, don't you?"

"Not really," Jessie toyed with the skirt of the nearest Barbie doll.

"We have different interests. You like Barbie dolls...and I like...cigarettes."

"Cigarettes are icky," she commented quickly; he was all too aware she didn't like him smoking them.

"Yeah, well, so is Barbie," he picked up one of the dolls by the foot and hung it upside down. "This is _not_ how women are supposed to look, you know..."

She giggled, "you're weird sometimes," she confessed.

"Honey, you have _no _idea," he sighed. "And you know I'm right. We shouldn't be hanging out as much."

"Why shouldn't we hang out?" Jessie pouted.

He thought about this; how to answer right? There were so many reasons why, and so many _more_ reasons he wanted to ignore through instinct. But Rogue had brought up some interesting points – and she was right, Jessie _was_ fragile and his new powers were still unpredictable enough to blow the lightbulbs in overhead lights and enough to worry Hank.

"I've got new powers that are kind of...unpredictable...I don't want you getting hurt because of them."

"You'd never hurt me."

"Some people might think differently, mignon."

Jessie got onto her knees and shuffled over, "I don't care if people think it's stupid or not safe..or wrong that me and you are friends – 'cause I know _they're_ wrong."

Remy's eyes dropped to her as he put down the Barbie. "How do you know?"

"I just...do..." she shrugged, "I don't know. It's like knowing you're hungry."

He was impressed with her expression, and he understood it immediately. "You feel it in your gut."

"You know what else I feel?" she asked in her tiny voice. Her cheek twitched briefly as she was seeming to consider if she should tell him or not.

He gave up, and shrugged, pulling his knees up to his chest uncomfortably.

As she spoke, she almost sounded heartbroken; "That sometimes you're so sad you don't know how to feel anymore."

Remy couldn't have expected that anything she would have said at that moment would have hit him so close to where he lived that his eyes would tear up; he looked away from her and took a breath, he tried to desperately remain stoic. She'd seen him cry once and he didn't want her scarred for life by a repeat of the incident.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, then pursed his lips together; he didn't want to let her see him this weakened, this...vulnerable. If she couldn't rely on him to be strong enough for both of them, then what _could_ she rely on.

And yet he couldn't help himself, he buried his head in his arms to hide his face from her as he felt the tears slide down his cheeks. He felt her shift beside him and her small arm wrapped around his shoulders, he felt her cheek press against his hair as she attempted to console him; why was it she always made him feel like the child while she took his role?

"Don't cry," she pleaded, the tiny fingers of her left hand gently stroked his hair and he found it oddly comforting despite it seeming so incredibly backwards. Love and compassion came so incredibly naturally to her.

He wished in that moment he could connect to her fully, tell her everything, tell her who she was and who he was to her. He hesitated; she'd never understand because it was too much for her young mind to handle, and saying the wrong thing could damage her. There was so much he just _couldn't _explain to her, and so much more that didn't make sense as it was. He couldn't rip her life from under her and tell her that the people who'd brought her up as a baby hadn't been her birth parents. They'd been the only real part of her life outside of the orphanage. The last slithers of the human life she'd had before her mutant powers had kicked in.

He raised his head finally to look at her, they shared a gaze as the tears rolled down his cheeks, and softly he murmured to her "Vous etes ma petit fille," in his most tender and loving voice, he cupped her face with both hands and tried to smile for her.

She didn't understand the phrase and he never meant her to, but he felt momentarily better having said it all the same, as if it brought him just even one step closer to a future where there would be no more secrets. She wiped the tears from his face with her sleeves as if he were one of her crying dolls and wiping the tears made everything all better.

He pulled himself together somehow, and dried his face on his sweatshirt before standing up. He didn't even need to speak to her to know that she would never mention this moment to anyone; the understanding in her eyes was enough to tell him that to her, this was something between them and them only.


	6. Chapter 6 Outburst

Chapter Six – Outburst

When Kitty entered her bedroom after her bath, she found Remy in there, leaning on the edge of the crib looking down at Caleb who was sleeping soundly in the crib. She pulled her terrycloth robe tighter around herself as she approached. "I didn't hear you walk in," she confessed.

"I called out, but I guess you couldn't hear me over the water," he said softly.

She could hear in his voice something was wrong; he had that strange cracked sound as if he were fighting back emotion.

When he leaned up and turned to look at her she saw the puffiness around his eyes and knew at once he'd been crying.

"What's wrong?" she asked, rushing over.

"Nothing," he shook his head and he forced a smile for her, "it's just been...a really, really rough day."

"Want to talk about it?" she asked as she ducked her head down and wrapped a towel around her hair. She sat on the edge of her bed and waited.

"Think I'm crackin' at the seams," he sighed.

"What happened?"

He moved away from the crib, "Jessie's noticin' the cracks. _Really_ noticing. I think Rogue is right...I shouldn't be spending so much time with her."

Kitty looked up at him, "she said that?"

"Not in so many words," he replied tiredly. He came over and sat beside her. "I _want _to be with her, Petit. I can't stand the thought of _not_ bein' with her now that I know about her bein' mine. But..." he trailed off and shook his head in dismay.

"But what?"

"What if I'm _damaging_ her by being with her now?"

Kitty took a few moments to consider his words; she studied him and then asked, "how?"

"I'm losing all control of my emotions when I'm with her, I started crying in front of her...she's acting like she's the adult and I'm the kid, trying to take _care_ of me and I'm so goddamn helpless."

"Jessie is really adult for her age; it's the way she was raised in the orphanage."

"But she's not _at _the orphanage anymore," Remy rubbed his eyes tired with his thumb and index finger. "_I'm_ meant to be taking care of _her._ Not the other way _around!_"

Kitty was silent, she couldn't find a way to respond to this.

"She told me that she feels it when I'm sad...am I supposed to _deal_ with that? My sadness is making _her_ sad. I'm _hurting_ her."

"She's a perceptive kid, Remy," Kitty confessed, "deeper than any kid I've ever spent time with in all the time I've taught here at the institute. Deeper than even the older kids..."

Remy nodded sadly.

"It's not a _good _thing that she knows how sad you are, Remy. I won't pretend like it _can't_ hurt her," Kitty said after a moment. "She's a kid and she _shouldn't_ have that worry. But it's not _your _fault that she's so in tune with your emotions that she knows how you're feeling. And you can't suddenly punish her for it by pulling away..."

He wiped his tearing eyes as Kitty gently stroked his back.

"If you start backing off now, she's going to wonder if she _can _trust you..." Kitty realised. She hated having to be the one to tell him these things, and she hated that what she'd been yearning for Remy to eventually find out was now one of the things that would probably affect his depression even more. She was starting to regret ever wanting to tell Remy the truth about Jessie, starting to regret that the truth had ever come out.

_How different would it have been?_ Kitty wondered. _If none of us had known...would they have both been better off?_

"Maybe..." said Kitty softly, "you're getting too close too fast."

"Maybe," he agreed, "but how can I help it...she's my daughter..."

Kitty sighed, "I think...you need some time away."

"Away...?"

"Go to Muir Island...let them fix you up. Not being around everything here will give you time to think..."

"I can't be away from Jessie. And not from Rogue either, not right now...not when..." he trailed off, Kitty could see that he was thinking of how Rogue might take it if he decided to leave even for the treatment without taking her with him. So soon after being intimate with her would almost seem like a kick in the teeth or a very low sucker punch for Rogue – something she hadn't considered when she'd brought the subject up.

"Not when you've taken your relationship to a new level," Kitty finished for him.

"She told you..." he frowned a little.

"She wanted to share – she was excited about it...really happy."

Remy buried both hands in his hair, "I know. I know."

Kitty paused, she knew she shouldn't have broached the subject any further and yet, instinct told her this was one time when she shouldn't leave well enough alone. "I don't understand how you can go from no sex drive to suddenly getting all hot and heavy in the space of _one_ day."

Why was that anxious look of panic on his face? He got up quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. "What can I say, I'm a hell of an actor."

"Must have been..." Kitty said, "'cause you sure fooled Rogue..."

He stood awkward and looming, he wasn't looking towards her any more.

"But you can't do that to her...you know that, right?" Kitty asked, as much as she understood why he'd done what he'd done, she was also incredibly aware that it was still a game he'd played rather well – and when two people are involved in a game, at least one of them was set to lose.

"Hmmm?" he asked, his attention momentarily lapsed; he glanced back to her confusedly.

"You can't go around playing with her feelings like that, pretending to be really into something that your heart isn't even in."

"But it was what she's been _wanting_ from me. It's what she keeps picking fights with me about. I'm just trying to make her _happy!_"

Kitty shook her head in disgrace with the idea, "But it's not fair, and she's gonna figure it out sooner or later that you're just _pretending_. She's insecure enough as it is, you do that with her then she finds out that it was all just _acting_, god, it would _kill_ her."

Suddenly, he raised his voice, "Y'know what, you women kill _me_, y'know that? Do this, do that, don't do this, don't do that!" he yelled.

Kitty blinked and got up quickly to rush over to the crib as Caleb started to cry, she reached in and gently touched his belly, "sssh baby, sssh," she hushed softly at the child while Remy continued to rant next to her.

"I did what you wanted, I bonded with Jessie, all the while feeling guilty for spending time with her that _should_ have been with my _first_ daughter...and now you're telling me to back off, and go away to Muir Island and _leave _her here!"

"It's not like you're leaving her _alone!_" Kitty retorted quickly. "Lower your voice! The baby--!"

"Then...I give Rogue what she wanted...and now it's suddenly the _wrong_ thing?! Why is it everything has to be complicated?! Why can't everything just be simple!?!"

"Stop yelling! You're scaring Caleb!" she hissed at him, she put her hand in the crib and gently stroked Caleb's cheek. "Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Everything, apparently. Hell, I'm Remy LeBeau, I ruin lives wherever I go...I'm a tornado that spins through town, destroying everything in it's fuckin' path; maybe I just better spin on out of of here before I suck you and the brat in and spit you out ruining both your lives, huh!??" he gestured wildly to the baby before turning promptly and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Kitty saw the wall shake, and the photo of her and the team from three years ago that she kept on the wall by the door rattled, then fell onto the dresser below, shattering the glass. "Great..." she muttered as she picked up her son and cradled him against her shoulder. She stared at the door wondering if he'd re-think his behaviour while standing outside in the hall, and then perhaps return with an apology or the decency to at least discuss why he'd gotten so mad.

But nothing happened. Remy did not come back with an apology. The rest of the night, he did not come back at all.

The End---or is it? Mwahahaha!

Okay, so it's getting really mixed up now. And some will find Remy's erratic behaviour a little inconsistent but hell, it's only fiction and he has his reasons, lol. Thanks to everyone who reviewed (your reviews make my day and remind me of who I'm writing for), and those of course who waited patiently for the last few episodes to go up. I'm hoping to have 12 and 13 up soon (I'm actually on 14 at the moment), so keep an eye out.


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